Actor Edmund Kean reportedly said on his deathbed, "Dying is
easy. Comedy is hard."

Comedy is hard. Comedy and drama are impossible. Throw in
hardcore sex and philosophy, and it's like juggling chainsaws
during a bungee jump. To survive such a challenge is an
accomplishment. With Beat the Devil, Robby D. triumphs.

Crippled, impoverished unattractive loser Eric Shmerick
(Eric Masterson) sold his soul to the devil, here called
Belial (Evan Stone), a few years ago and threw the crutches
away, had plenty of coin in his pockets and started fucking
fine women like Angel Long. But now, Shmerick wants to
renegotiate his contract because he's aging, and his sexual
function is waning. Belial isn't living up to his end of the
bargain. This is painfully presented when Shmerick tries to
fuck horny housewife Felicia Fox and can't finish the deed,
earning him a berating and a bloody nose from
otherwise-approving husband Tim Case. Shmerick introduces
Belial to witchy woman Belladona (Jesse Jane), and makes his
proposition: if Belial can outfuck this ripe blonde piece of
ass here, Shmerick will relinquish his soul right now -
against a possible 30-year renewal of the contract. Belial
dives into Belladona, and the scene is like watching a dam
burst: exciting and a little scary. (Those who have been
waiting for Jesse Jane's first b/g will find their patience
well rewarded.) She bests Belial, of course. And as Belial
lies on a bar, spent, panting, sweating, sated, defeated,
Shmerick tells him how he learned of Belladona's frightening
sexual power in a scene that mixes a lot of heat with a
chilling ending. And not only is Shmerick triumphant, but
fate has one last comeuppance for Belial. Sic semper Satan.

Stone's Belial is filled with crazed energy, offering a
rolled-up banknote ("Want some blow?") before shoving it up
his own nose and leaving it there before declaring, "The
deuce with it - drugs are so passé anyway," and blowing
it away. It's a smartass throwaway pre-nom performance that
looks like it was tailored to him. Eric Masterson plays to
the gravitas of his unwillingly-aged character, still young
at heart, but painfully aware that he's not on his A-game any
more. Pre-nom. A well deserved editing pre-nom to editor Joey
Pulgaris, mix-and-matching film-look images, scratched-film
images, practically subliminal cuts and speeded-up
parenthetical visual asides. And playing with the sound, too.
But it's pre-nom screenwriter/pre-nom videographer/pre-nom
director Robby D. whose deranged mind is on display here,
with sudden zooms, throw-away lines ("The deuce with it"?)
and enough ideas - visual, philosophical and sexual - to fill
five lesser productions.